In the Shadow of Our Pale Companion
by Loki's Symphony
Summary: It is the winter of the Marauder's sixth year at Hogwarts. After an accident at Quidditch training, Remus and Sirius will find their friendship tested to it's very limits. Will the brotherhood be broken?
1. Here, at the Edge of this World

Winter had brought fresh falls of snow to the hills around Hogsmeade. In the town shopkeepers cast spells in unison to thaw the icy cobbles as they opened up, preparing for another weekend of thickly-garmented schoolchildren running half-amok in their stores. The first puffs of smoke from freshly-stoked fires began to billow from the rows of crooked chimneys and swirled with the morning fog, its thick blanket almost obscuring the rooftops. From one of the snow-covered hills Remus Lupin stood shivering, gazing down at a misty sea studded with jaunty-angled roofs, their frosted tiles glinting like serpent's scales by the first rays of dawn.

Every month he made sure he stayed to watch the sunrise, to watch hope reassert itself upon the world after the longest and bitterest of nights. Last night had been more bitter than most; the full moon had lasted three full nights this month, and its influence over him only grew with time. With every breath he thanked his friends for staving off the worst of the madness, his blessings dissipating with the chill of the wind. As he had returned to form they had somehow managed to stretch clothes over his naked, still-thrashing body, restraining and placating him long enough to keep him steady until his mind had fully restored itself.

Through the haze of semi-conscious memories he heard snatches of whispered reassurances, frantic babblings and steely dedication. He smiled, his face stinging from the cold winter air, his fingers rubbing stiffly at his aching biceps. Every month it seemed worse, and every month his friends pulled through, going above and beyond to ease his suffering. Through the pain and nausea and weakness, still he smiled, pulling the bedspread hastily thrown about his shoulders tighter to his body. "Thank you," he whispered into thin air, coughing throatily and repeating, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," came a voice from behind. Remus turned too fast, bending almost double and steadying himself as his fragile stomach punished him for his exuberance. Sirius Black grinned affectionately, trudging closer through the thick snow. The goosebumps on his bare arms betrayed his nonchalantly light clothing; _so like Sirius_, thought Remus, _to bring jeans and a t-shirt to wear over the coldest night of the year. _

"Aren't you cold?" Remus asked, tucking his arms under his makeshift cloak. "You really don't have to stay out here, you know," he offered, already knowing his friend would decline, and secretly thankful for it.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Grand-Symbolic-Gestures," Sirius retorted, "standing in four inches of snow without so much as socks on." Remus, Sirius' voice lowered as he cleared his throat and asked more seriously, "Are you okay?"

Remus' face flickered, his mouth straightening a little and his eyes softening. "Yeah," he replied, "yeah." He paused and licked his lips, almost embarrassed to ask the question Sirius knew was coming. "It was a bad one last night, wasn't it?"

Sirius looked down to the snow and sighed, a gentle puff of mist disappearing into the morning. "It was a bad one, yeah," he admitted quietly, his deep brown eyes locking briefly with his friend's. A thin, sympathetic smile stretched across his face as he reached out and clasped Remus' shoulder, squeezing it gently. "But we got through it…we always do."

"We always do," Remus repeated under his breath, exhaling in relief to feel the warmth of Sirius' hand upon his shoulder; a sure sign that he was, once more, human. He turned his head to his friend, whose dark eyes and sharp cheekbones held so much reassurance, and his body instinctively leant towards him. Gulping as he felt his body betraying him, Remus turned away, regretfully shrugging away Sirius' hand.

Sirius flinched as if he'd just taken a Bludger to the gut, treading a step closer to Remus. Standing not a foot from him he wrapped his hand gently around the crook of his elbow and leant in, his voice barely a whisper. "I just…want to be…" He trailed off mid-sentence, shyness making an extremely uncharacteristic appearance and freezing his tongue.

"I thought we agreed," Remus replied, keeping his back to Sirius, his voice equally low, "I thought we agreed to forget it." Sirius scoffed and withdrew his hand, running it through his long, black curls. For a week he and Remus' conversations had been stilted, stifled by a mutual sense of insecurity.

"Moony," he sighed compassionately, closing the gap between he and his friend. Hesitantly he placed both hands on his shoulders, his mind briefly buzzing as the scent of Remus' hair wafted across on the wind. "Let's get inside," he muttered, "Let's talk …just talk. Pure and simple."

Fighting a wave of paralysing weakness, Remus nodded silently and followed Sirius as he trudged back to the Shrieking Shack. Well he knew it wasn't the cold that was weakening him; when Sirius Black wanted to talk, the results were rarely simple and almost never pure.

***

Sirius threw himself down on the bed, leaving Remus to lock the door which barely kept the little heat in the shack in. Shivering, he swung his feet up and kicked off his boots. The old bed had never been used by any of the Marauders; their Animagus forms didn't require such human contrivances, and sleep was the last thing on a transformed Remus' mind. Though large, its wraught-iron frame had long since been stripped of its paint and begun to rust, and feathers tumbled out of the mattress from moth-eaten holes all down its length.

"Well, Gryffindor Tower this isn't," he grumbled as he fidgeted against the tickling feathers. Remus sat silently at the other side of the bed, the tip of his tongue running over his lips as words formed in the back of his throat, only to sink back down. Sirius turned onto his side and frowned as Remus' shoulders rose and fell laboriously. "You're not having a relapse, are you?"

"No," Remus sighed in reply, "just…thinking." As evasive as it sounded, he couldn't have been more right; the events of a week past had been all he could concentrate on for days. Were things meant to have played out that way? If only James hadn't disappeared when he did…

"Hm," Sirius grunted, amused. "I thought as much," he said perhaps a touch too emphatically, plucking absent-mindedly at a tuft of feathers poking through the worn mattress. "Think it's fair to say we've had a lot to think about." The silence between the two seemed to swell and ache to burst like the lungs of a drowning victim, and at length the dark-haired young man muttered, "I'm only assuming, of course, that you _have _been thinking about it." His gaze was transfixed upon his friend's back, so deeply pitted and crossed with long scars, his spine cresting out of his taut skin.

Remus frowned and felt that familiar burning sensation rise up between his shoulder blades once more; Sirius' eyes were upon him, staring that inscrutable stare. It was as if, thought Remus, he hoped to burn a hole straight to his soul. "You don't usually procrastinate this much, Padfoot," he chided him, staring at the floor, "Not unless there's a History of Magic essay involved."

Sirius let out a mirthless snort. "Well, you've got me there, Mr. Moony," he mumbled, adjusting himself on the bed to a series of squeaks. "So, what do you suggest we do about this," he asked, mulling over his choice of words, "situation? Ignore it and hope it goes away? Thought you of all people would know that's not how you deal with something…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Remus shot back, irritated, turning around at last to face his friend.

"Nothing, nothing," blurted Sirius, batting away Remus' protests with a careless hand. "Just thought you'd understand that sometimes you have to face up to things, that's all," he muttered, an edge of bitterness in his voice.

Rising to his feet, Remus' soft voice grew in temerity. "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about-" Sirius rolled his eyes in frustration, "-then I'd thank you for not comparing those two things again! This thing that I am, I never chose it, I never wanted it, and this thing with…with us, I…" Remus trailed off as Sirius' eyes bored deep into his, already knowing the coup de grace that was to come.

"I don't know about you," Sirius said darkly, "but I certainly never chose this."

Remus swallowed, abashed. He began to pace slowly around the room, his footsteps echoing in the draughty old hovel. The smell of rotting wood, particles torn loose from frozen and split beams, filled the place in winter. Looking back sadly at the immobile, reclining body of his friend, he sniffed in the hopes of catching that comforting scent of lavender over the Shack's musk. When the silence had again reached breaking point, he called out in a dry, cracking voice, "Things aren't really ever going to be the same again, are they?"

Staring up into the bat-lined beams of the roof, Sirius paused a moment before replying, "Depends."


	2. A Pantheon of Oak, a Citadel of Stone

**One week earlier**

Remus blew into his pinched, red palms as he crossed his legs on the hard wooden bench. The air had turned to frost over the space of a single night and the entire Quidditch pitch had frozen over; the once-billowing banners and flags that surrounded the stands stood motionless, frozen stiff, and icicles hung menacingly from the goal-hoops. Sirius had had to practically beg James not to call off Quidditch practice, and rest of the team's stares were almost as cold as their fingers as he swooped around the pitch, crying out for the Quaffle.

"Come on, Gregory!" He called out over the whip of the wind. "I'll give it back, promise!" The burly, shaven-headed Chaser threw the Quaffle to Sirius angrily, who went spinning over his broom as he caught the full force of the throw. His long, black hair covered his face like a mask as he shook his head wildly, clearing his sight as he ducked out of the way of an oncoming Bludger.

"Sirius! Over here!" Came the cry from a slender, blonde girl on the wing. The two of them flew together and rolled to dodge the returning Bludger and Sirius extended his arm as they passed, wrenching it back as she reached out hers and speeding away ahead of her towards the goal, easily beating the nervous keeper.

Remus sighed from the stands. Sirius was, by all accounts, a very talented Quidditch player, but his ego got the better of him at the worst possible moments. Pulling his scarf tighter around his mouth and nose he rocked back and forth in his seat, wondering if either of them would thank him for not electing to stay warm in bed like Peter had.

"What was that?" the blonde girl yelled at Sirius as they wheeled away back to their own half. "I hope you're not planning to get away with that kind of thing against Ravenclaw!" She broke off to soar into the air, leaving Sirius grinning as he admired her form, circling around the goal hoops. Remus stood and walked down the bleachers to stand against the rail, frowning as he watched Sirius hang around his own goals and watch his team-mates practise. Why did he have to be so difficult?

After a few minutes James blew his whistle and ordered a huddle on the ground. The team flew their brooms to the centre spot, their boots crunching on the icy ground as they stood in a circle. Gregory shot a look to Sirius as he barged his way past, standing deliberately opposite the blonde girl, leaning on his broom. "Alright," James began as the Gryffindors turned their attention to him. "That was a good first try, Francis and Belle were especially good." Two Beaters smiled at his praise. "Keepers, you're both doing well, but Vivian, don't stick to the middle goal-hoop. There's three, you know." A ripple of laughter rose from the huddle as he concluded, "And Sirius, you're playing well but you need to pass more. You need to form an effective partnership with…with…" James blushed as he gestured to the blonde girl, having obviously forgotten her name.

"Erin," she replied quietly, her eyes thin and unimpressed. "Erin Kovacs." James nodded vigorously, unsuccessfully hiding his embarrassment.

"Well then," he resumed, tapping his broom on the ground, "let's get back up there." As one the Gryffindor team mounted their brooms and soared up into the air, taking their sides as James blew the whistle and the game restarted. Almost immediately Sirius dived to scoop up the Quaffle and roared past the opposing Chasers, weaving his way around Bludgers. Gregory flew alongside Sirius and yelled at him for the Quaffle, but Sirius banked away to offload the Quaffle onto Erin. This repeated itself a dozen times or more; Remus grunted in frustration and smacked the handrail on the bleachers. It was so like Sirius, he thought, to co-operate in the most obtuse way possible.

The mountainous Gregory was losing his temper. Time and again he would veer into Sirius and attempt to take the Quaffle from him by force, and time and again Sirius would swerve and roll to escape his meaty grasp. When at last he got the Quaffle, Sirius flew alongside him and, with unmitigated nerve, shouted out, "Come on Gregory, don't be such a Quaffle-hog!"

Gregory threw the Quaffle at Sirius's legs with furious force, aiming to shatter a shinbone. At the last minute Sirius leapt into splits over his broom and the Quaffle whizzed past him to where Erin was flying in support. She was caught totally off-guard; the Quaffle smashed into her face with a sickening thud. The entire Gryffindor team froze as they watched her fly from her broom and tumble down to the icy ground, slamming into it mercilessly. The cry arose as they all flew down to inspect her, some leaping from their brooms at over six feet from the ground to run to her side. James had torn through the sky like a bullet to get to her first and knelt at her head, ordering the others to stand back as they began to surround her.

"She needs room to breathe!" he barked at them, running his fingers along the side of her neck and wiping at the blood on her face desperately. "Broom!" he yelled at a wide-eyed, shivering second year, who immediately acquiesced. Hog-tying Erin's hands and feet, James slid the broom beneath the binds and watched her rise from the ground slowly. "I'm taking her to Madame Pomfrey," he instructed the gathered Gryffindors. "Training's cancelled, go back to the common room!" Immediately he shot off to the castle, one hand grasping the broom from which Erin swung precariously.

Sirius had floated down to the ground at a leisurely pace and was the last to join the huddle. One by one all eyes in the group turned to him, staring daggers. "What?" he retorted, genuinely annoyed. "Don't look at me like that, we all know it was Greg Nevis here who threw the Quaffle!" Gregory stepped forward out of the rabble and gave Sirius a vicious shove.

"You've been taking the piss all day, Black," he spat, his Irish brogue strangely high and unsuited to his hulking frame. "You guilt Potter into putting training on when it's minus ten, you hog the Quaffle and then you don't show an ounce of remorse when you end up nearly killing one of your team-mates!" Sirius scoffed dramatically, casting his eyes around as if he was unable to believe he was being chastised in this way.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Gregory, old chap," he replied, his voice soft and mocking, "but technically, wasn't it _you _who nearly killed Erica?"

"Erin!" Gregory screeched back, disgusted at Sirius' nonchalance. "Do other people mean that little to you? You act like this team only exists to give you something to do and to get out of having to do your bloody History of Magic homework, but we don't need a spoilt pureblood like you with us!"

Remus had had enough. He set off down the stairs inside the tower, making his way out to the pitch. Sirius was definitely as stupid as he was arrogant, and without reining in Remus could tell the situation down on the ground would turn very ugly, very quickly.

"Oh…is that so?" Sirius looked up to Gregory, their eyes locking. The bald-headed Irishman was breathing heavily, seething with anger. "I suppose that'd be true, yeah…if we had a Chaser who wasn't either an asthmatic Paddy or currently a vegetable."

The blow came out of nowhere and lifted Sirius off his feet. Gregory's great, rock-like fist had swung out from his body with a roar and connected sharply with Sirius' head, knocking him sideways like he'd been hit by a train. Through the stars and pinpricks that clouded his vision Sirius managed to retrieve his wand from his robes and stabbed towards Gregory with it. "_Reducto!_" he barked as the Irishman tried in vain to shield himself from the spell with his bare arms. The blast from the end of Sirius' wand sent him flying backwards into the crowd, crushing several other players with his massive weight as the group descended into pandemonium.

Remus came rushing out onto the frozen pitch just as Gregory recovered and fought off the restraining arms of his team-mates to bring out his wand and yell "_Malleacta!_" A steel-grey column of shadow flew from the end of his wand, hitting the supine Sirius squarely in the stomach and sending him sliding painfully along the frosty ground. Remus withdrew his own wand, pointing it at Gregory as the others managed to successfully hold him back while Sirius coughed in a heap.

"There's no need for this," he called out, his jaw chattering in the biting cold, "no need to act like common brutes!" Gregory's green eyes burned fiercely into his as Remus hoped he could quell the fury behind them. "I think we should all go to the infirmary and see how Erin is doing," he suggested, casting his eyes around the whole group, "instead of kicking great lumps out of each other."

The Irishman's rage slowly subsided, his whole body relaxing as he seemed to visibly deflate. One by one the hands restraining him let go, until he stood still panting and hard-faced in the snow, yet bereft of the murderous anger from which he had so recently suffered. "Aye," he replied softly, "but he ain't coming." He pointed to Sirius, who remained crumpled on the ground.

Slowly he walked over to Sirius' broom and took it up in two fat-fingered hands. A gasp went round the team; all of them knew what was coming, but few thought Sirius did not deserve it, and fewer were willing to stop him. With a single swift motion he brought it down upon his knee, splintering the wood sharply and tossing the two shattered pieces over to Sirius. "'Cause o' him, a girl may not be able to walk," he said to Remus. "He'll be truly thankful for that which he's taken away by the time you drag his arse back to the castle."

The team mounted their brooms in silence with all eyes on Sirius' coughing, hacking form, a crumpled mass of red robes in the snow. Some sent vicious glares, others showed great pity for his pitiful state. One by one they all left and flew towards the castle towering in the distance. Alone together, Remus pocketed his wand and knelt over Sirius, lifting him up delicately.

"Come on, Sirius," he muttered to him mournfully as he helped him stand. "Let's go home."


	3. This Grand Panorama

The blizzard was rapidly filling in the deep, uneven footprints that snaked their way across the white landscape. At odd intervals the trail was christened with the scarlet shimmer of blood, irregular splatters dashed across white like rubies cast upon a tablecloth. At the head of the tracks two young wizards hobbled together, stopping and starting as one stumbled and fell time and again, each time being faithfully lifted and carried by his partner.

"Come on, Sirius," Remus panted as he slung the dark-haired youth's arm about his shoulder for the hundredth time, "not far now."

Sirius coughed, sending another spray of fine blood across the snow. "You've been saying that for the last fifteen minutes," he growled, breathing heavily as he trudged his way through the drifts. "We should be halfway through dinner right now," he murmured bitterly.

"Well you're hardly helping," Remus replied as he pressed his hand harder around Sirius' side. "If you tried not to go so fast you wouldn't keep falling over, you're badly injured!" Remus frowned as he struggled to keep Sirius upright as they began to walk up a slope, the blizzard blowing stinging snow into their faces.

"I am _not _badly injured, Moony," Sirius shot back as he fell forward onto his hands, righting himself quickly and pushing his hair back. "I've had worse," he said as he battled on through the snowstorm, "you yourself are most disagreeable when it's your time of the month." Remus's arm dropped from Sirius' side as he turned his head to glare at him. "What?" Sirius said as he clocked Remus' aghast stare. "I'm just saying…"

Remus grunted angrily and hoisted Sirius up sharply, eliciting a yelp of pain from him as his hand dug into his bruised ribs. "You're coughing up blood, Padfoot," he shouted over the rush of the wind and snow, "I'd call that badly injured. I've never even heard of that curse he used," he muttered, wincing as he remembered the way Gregory's wand cast a stone-grey pillar of smoke that seemed to smash into Sirius' midriff like a sledgehammer.

Sirius fell to the ground, coughing up more blood as the wind changed direction and blew at their backs, sending Remus off-balance to end up on his knees beside his friend. "You can Apparate!" Sirius yelled into Remus' ear as he finally broke out of his coughing fit. "Get us both inside!"

"I can't, not here!" Remus replied as he pulled out his wand. "There might be something I can do," he murmured as his frozen fingers fumbled with his wand. He grasped it desperately, hoping beyond hope that he might remember some kind of charm or enchantment to help them. To Remus' mind, the only hope they had was if he could heal Sirius' wounds here and now; in his condition and with the weather having truly closed in, it would be unlikely that they would make it back to the castle in time on foot.

"_Episkey!_" he shouted against the storm, pointing his wand at Sirius' middle. Sirius only cried out loud, bending double as if he'd been punched. "_Episkey!_" he shouted again, only for Sirius' contortions to become even wilder.

"Stop!" Sirius bellowed, his bloodshot eyes mad with pain and anger. "It's obviously not working! I'm OBVIOUSLY too badly injured for Episkey to work! I need a Healer!"

"I'm trying!" Remus cried back, spit flying into Sirius' face. "_Protego Totalum!_" He shouted out, whipping his wand in a circle around them. A thin blue shield flickered into life around them, blocking out the snow briefly before collapsing. "_Protego Totalum!_" He shouted again, closing his eyes and whipping his wand around more vigorously. The shield reappeared, stronger and more solid, and only the briefest whispers of wind penetrated for a few seconds before snapping away instantly. "It's no good," Remus moaned, "I can't do it!"

Sirius pulled himself up with a grunt and spat onto the ground, pulling out his wand. "Together!" He croaked, waving his wand in Remus' face. They clasped hands and stared intently at each other as Sirius counted down. "3...2...1..._PROTEGO TOTALUM!_"

They swung their arms in unison and a blinding light seemed to burst from all around them, a solid blue bubble forming around them as the wild noise of the blizzard seemed to all at once disappear. In the eerie calm of their magical sanctuary Remus finally breathed easy, a stilted stream of white mist floating up from his mouth. "Okay", he panted, pushing his sandy hair out of his eyes and brushing the snow from his shoulders. "We have to get you warm."

Sirius was lying flat on the ground and breathing shallowly, his long black hair splayed out over the snow like an oil spill. "There's a nice big fire in the common room, if memory serves," he whispered as his jaw chattered.

Remus frowned and ignored Sirius' bait. Pulling his scarf off and wrapping it around Sirius's neck, he cradled his friend's head tenderly as he lifted it to tuck his hair beneath him. "We're going to have to wait the storm out, Padfoot," he told him softly, almost mournfully. "No nice big fire for us."

"Ha," Sirius laughed mirthlessly, giving another hacking cough. "Brilliant." Blood trickled down Sirius' chin, dripping onto his pale neck and running off into the snow. Remus pulled off his overcoat and robes and pulled them over Sirius' body, rubbing his own sides. The cold was seeping in from the blizzard outside; their _Protego _charm had not been perfect.

"You're going to be okay, Sirius," he reassured him, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You're going to be nice and warm, and the blizzard will stop, and we'll get you to Madam Pomfrey," he told him, pulling his legs up beneath his chin as he sat by Sirius' chest.

"And then I'll shove both bits of Apollo right up Gregory O'Neill's arse," Sirius added, laughing hoarsely before collapsing into a coughing fit again. Remus rubbed Sirius' chest attentively, his face twisted into a concerned frown. Sirius was pale at the best of times, but now he was almost translucent; for the first time, Remus was genuinely scared that Sirius was more than just badly injured.

"You can have my broomstick," he whispered to him, a tremulous smile creeping over his face. "God knows I never use it; it's a Comet 220, it's been gathering dust in my wardrobe at home for about five years now," he said with a small laugh.

Sirius chuckled slowly. "Oh, Moony," he sighed at length, "how very like you."

Remus shivered in the cold. "What is," he asked as he rubbed his bare forearms, "unsolicited philanthropy?"

"Having a crap broom," Sirius responded. Slowly the two of them fell into a long, stuttering laugh, laughing with such carefree abandon that they could almost forget they were trapped in a snowstorm and one of them was skirting the edges of the veil. Sirius' laughter once more turned to a hacking cough, but this was far more violent than the last and he started spitting mouthfuls of blood out onto the snow as it dripped sickeningly down his chin.

"I'm going to die, Moony," he whispered, grimacing as if he was ashamed of himself for even saying it. "I know I am, I'm going to die," he whined, barely restraining a sob.

"You're not going to die," Remus replied tiredly, his lip quivering as it tore him asunder to hear his friend so abandoned.

"I am," Sirius replied pitifully. "Why can't you ever tell people the truth, Moony," he growled through clenched teeth as he winced in pain, "you've always been so bloody weak!" Remus' jaw snapped open in shock. "Admit it, you idiot, I'm going to die!"

"No," Remus barked, "no, you're not!" His face was hard and vicious as he pulled Sirius up by his lapels. "I've dragged you -CARRIED you a mile through the worst blizzard to hit Hogwarts in thirty years, it's your fault you're injured and I'm bloody freezing, so don't you even THINK of dying, you selfish little brat!"

Sirius lurched his head forward and spat a glob of blood in Remus' face. The anger on the young werewolf's face dissipated instantly, transforming into shock. Sirius looked upon him with furious anger, his bloodied lips and chin and bloodshot eyes almost shimmering against the pale blue glow of Remus' shield charm. Slowly their faces dropped, their mutual fears overcoming them both as tears began to well at Remus' eyes.

"No," he whispered as his head tilted to touch Sirius' forehead with his, his tears dripping down Sirius' cheeks as he closed his eyes. "You're not going to die." One of Sirius' arms whipped desperately around Remus' back, gripping into his shoulder as the dark-haired youth began to weep.

"I just needed to hear it from you, Moony," he whispered back as he sniffed, "I just needed you to tell me I wouldn't." Their eyes closed and foreheads touching, the two friends breathed as one, each other's essence filling their minds. Their bodies relaxed, both seeming to greet what was to come with open arms.

Slowly Remus' head tilted up, halting suddenly as Sirius' hot, iron-tang breath on his lips made his heart skip a beat. Softly their lips came together, their arms tightening about each other's bodies as they kissed with abandon; their hot, misty breath hung in the air above them as their tongues danced, desperately, hungry for each other's taste.

Their heads pulled away sharply as they stared into each other's eyes. Remus looked aghast; Sirius simply intrigued. A faint smile tugged as Sirius' blue-tinged lips as he ran his fingers through Remus' hair. "No better place for it, eh?"

Remus let out a exclamation which was half-laugh, half-sob. In the blink of an eye his lips had crashed against Sirius' again, causing his friend to fall backwards as they lay on the frozen ground and held each other tightly. The taste of blood shot through every kiss, and after minutes of desperate, writhing affection they fell apart in a mixture of shame and exhaustion. Remus sat alone for some time, unable to meet Sirius' gaze as he lay panting and pale on the snow.

Slowly, he crawled over to lay by Sirius and lay his head on his chest, holding onto him tightly. "If you go, Padfoot," he whispered, "I go."


	4. God is Not Dead

Hot morning sunlight woke Remus up, dazzling him as he opened his eyes groggily. He could feel thick sheets around him as his limbs regained sensation, and the unmistakably soft touch of Hogwarts pyjamas. As a lone bird twittered outside the window opposite, Remus let out a long, sleepy sigh, realising that he was safe; that he was alive.

The rustle of bedsheets to his left caught his attention; his heart leapt as he squinted to see that unmistakable head of long, black hair tumbling across the pillow, the familiar shape of that slender, rigid body on its side, sleeping and covered by quilts. Slowly a smile began to materialise on Remus' face as he watched his friend's back rise and fall, laughing silently as he thanked whatever gods had rescued them and saved their lives.

Remus cracked his back as he rose to sit up, swinging his legs out over the side of the bed. His toes clenched as they brushed the freezing tile floor, and gingerly he got up out of the bed and hopped over to where Sirius was sleeping. "Sirius," he whispered, placing his hand tenderly on his shoulder, "wake up, Sirius, we're alive!"

Sirius continued to sleep, his body turned away and his face blank. Remus cleared his throat and shook him a little, repeating, "Sirius, wake up!" With a snort and a groan he awoke; still weak from his wounds and the exposure, he moved only slowly as, wincing, he rolled on his back bleary-eyed to face his friend. "You're okay," Remus whispered to him, unable to hide the smile he wore.

Agonisingly slowly, the smile dropped as Remus read the change in his friend's eyes. Those bright green eyes, at first so tired, had lit up with a flash of joy upon meeting his, but as the seconds wore on memories had clouded them, memories of their desperate moment together in the snow. A flicker of the eyelids and they flitted imperceptibly downwards, just for a moment, simply unable to maintain eye contact. As he looked at him once more a strange sense of guilt had come over them, before turning back and away from Remus, not to look upon him again as he rolled over in silence.

Remus stood stock-still, frozen by Sirius' devastating look of embarrassment. His hand had lifted from his friend's shoulder of it's own accord, open and outstretched uselessly. His stomach felt as if it had fallen down into the dungeons; gulping dryly he straightened up and walked stiff-limbed back to his own bed, slipping inside it's covers once more and surrounding himself with them, burying himself to the world.

***

"You couldn't even look at me," Remus muttered softly, his lips curled with bitterness. A drip of water broke the uneasy silence that followed, sending a rat scurrying along the skirting-board.

Sirius rolled his eyes up and down in silence, shamefaced. Time and again he opened his mouth as if to speak but the words dried up in his throat. "I didn't…I hadn't," he babbled, frowning as he failed to form the words he wanted. "I hadn't expected to-"

"Survive?" Remus accused him, whipping around and regarding him with malevolent eyes. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? Because I should have known; Sirius Black, the only time he'll ever open himself up is when he's desperate." He turned back around, pulling the bedspread around his shoulders tighter across his body as he began to rock slightly. "So scared, so terrified of being alone…you'll take anything that's offered, and hang the consequences."

Sirius sighed as he sat up, his back pressed against the headboard. "I _was _scared," he admitted, "lying there in the snow, bleeding, dying…I just wanted-"

"You just wanted to get one last notch before you died," Remus replied, his voice low and laced with venom. Sirius rose up furiously, kneeling on the creaking mattress. His heavy breaths echoed around the dead, silent shack as he struggled to respond.

"No," he barked with bile rising in his throat, "I just wanted to know you were there."

Remus scoffed with a mirthless laugh. "Know I was there?" he replied mockingly. "I'd been carrying you for miles, I gave you my clothes, I gave you my body-" he stopped suddenly, his throat closing up as he realised the implications of his words. "You just wanted," he resumed after a second or two of silence, "to see how much you could get out of me. I know you always knew," he spat bitterly, looking down at the floor as he cringed with embarrassment to admit his feelings.

Sirius looked down to the mattress guiltily, his lip quivering as his heart kicked violently against his chest with guilt. "Yeah, I knew," he replied hoarsely, "and I liked it." The silence between them was palpable as Remus' ears jerked up slightly. "Not like…not like that," he added, his voice sullen, "I just liked…knowing. I liked having," he sighed, "I liked having that…power over you."

Sirius sat back down on the bed with one knee beneath his chin, abashed and silent. Remus let out a quiet, shivering sigh as he pulled up his legs to sit with them crossed at the edge of the bed, still staring down at the dusty floor. "Is that it, then?" He asked sadly. "Now that I know you know, and that you know I know you know, and the cat's well and truly out of the bag…we can't just be friends anymore, not after this. Not after this," he groaned, burying his forehead in his hands as he winced.

"No," Sirius replied softly, "no, we can't." He slipped back against the headboard once more, licking his lips and keeping his eyes fixed upon Remus' spine as he ventured tremulously, "But we can be something else."

Remus' head rose slowly as Sirius' words fell over him. Was he being serious? Turning to face him he noticed how quiet and shy Sirius had become; a sure sign that, yes, he was. "Something else?" Remus asked, half-disbelievingly. "No, Sirius, we can't do that," he sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"Why not?" Sirius shot back, his face stiff and serious. "Isn't that what you wanted? Why do you have to be such a bloody martyr, Moony?" Remus' face blanched in shock as Sirius' tone suddenly became vicious. "This is what you wanted," Sirius repeated, staring intently into his friend's eyes. "If you want it, take it."

Remus shook his head dumbly for a few seconds before finally finding his voice. "Sirius, you're not…I mean, you don't…" Sirius tilted his head slowly, scrutinising Remus as he stammered. "You just…don't…like…boys," Remus finally blurted out, turning away and burying his chin in his chest in embarrassment, blushing furiously at his childishness.

Sirius laughed softly, a warm smile creeping over his face as he watched Remus flounder. "Mature and eloquent as ever, Moony," he chuckled, watching as his friend's shoulders began to rise and fall as the laughter became catching. At length they both found themselves giggling helplessly, exhaustion and desperation fuelling their elation.

"You're right," Sirius said at length after the laughter had died down, "you're right, though. I don't like boys," he stated, looking inscrutably into Remus' eyes. "I like you."

Remus swallowed slowly, his fear and apprehension being steadily replaced by excitement. "That's good, I suppose," he mumbled with an awkward smile. "What," he asked, clearing his throat, "what do we do now?"

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "I suppose, no-one really has to know. It's nobody's business but ours; let's keep in that way." Remus nodded and made to speak before Sirius hushed him, moving closer. "And in the more immediate future, Mr. Moony," he continued, his voice softening as his face moved closer to Remus', "now, I would like you to kiss me."


End file.
